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“I know how to get to my own bunkhouse,” he muttered as he disappeared out the door.
Bemused by the old man’s quick departure, Quint said, “What’s wrong with him? He always wants coffee after he eats.”
“From what he tells me, Jim always keeps a pot going on the stove,” Maura reasoned.
“Well, the way he scooted out of here, you’d think he wanted to leave us alone,” Quint said, then leveled a suggestive look at her. “What do you think?”
Heat swept through her body, making it feel like her cotton dress was actually a heavy woolen coat. Refraining from fanning herself, she rose to her feet and began to gather Abe’s dirty dishes.
“Clearly,” she said as she carried the things over to the sink.
Not bothering with his own dishes, Quint left the table and walked up behind her. As he slipped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to the back of her neck, he said in a voice muffled by her skin, “I think the old man needs psychotherapy. He says he loves you.”
She didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, she asked, “Are you saying a man has to be mentally ill to love me?”
The coolness in her voice told him he’d gone at this all wrong. “No. But Gramps is eighty-four.”
“So. You don’t think you’ll be capable of loving at eighty-four?”
Hell, he wasn’t sure he was capable of loving a woman at twenty-nine, he thought. These past years since his break with Holly he’d tried to get close to other women, tried to recapture that blissful state of mind he’d had with his first sweetheart. But the most he’d experienced was a cold sweat, a sick repulsion at the idea of handing any woman the reins to his future.
Quint figured by the time he reached Abe’s age, his heart would more than likely be as hard as a piece of granite. Maybe it was now, he thought bitterly. Maybe Holly had turned him to stone and he’d never be able to love again.
Lifting his head, he answered, “Not a woman fifty years my junior!”
Twisting around, she slipped her arms around his midsection and linked her hands behind his back. “Oh, Quint,” she said with a soft laugh, “Abe loves me as a daughter.”
Her laughter was all he needed to lighten his thoughts and he smiled at her. “I suppose you’re right. I just don’t want his old heart broken.”
As for his own heart, Quint wasn’t worried about that. After all, a piece of rock wasn’t capable of getting all soft and soppy and vulnerable.
“I was surprised to see you here tonight,” she said huskily.
“Why? I told you on the phone that I’d see you soon.”
The husky note in his voice sent a shiver of anticipation down Maura’s spine. “That could mean anything. And you’ve been very busy.”
“Jake and I have finally started stocking the ranch and for the past week, we’ve been moving cattle and horses from dawn ‘til dusk. I’ve hardly taken time to eat.” His hands gently framed her face. “But—oh, honey, you ought to know I’ve been going crazy to be with you again.”
She sighed. “I’ve been wanting to see you again, too.”
He bent his head and his lips wrapped desperately over hers. The force of his kiss rocked her head backward and she moaned as her hands reached for the anchor of his shoulders.
In spite of the overhead lighting, his kiss was tugging her down into a swirling darkness where there was nothing but his hands sizzling over her skin, his mouth demanding, yet at the same time giving.
When their lips finally broke apart and his forehead was resting against hers, she sucked in ragged breaths and attempted to calm her racing heart.
“This is crazy, Quint!”
“Yeah. But a good kind of crazy.”
He pressed his lips across her forehead, then along one cheekbone, while goose bumps danced over Maura’s skin.
“The way I want you is indecent,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be making me feel like this.”
Her head tilted sideways as his lips began a downward trail on the side of her neck, then paused against the throbbing vein at the juncture of her shoulder.
“I’ve got to make love to you, Maura.”
“Yes.” The word floated out on a sigh.
His lips began working their way back up her throat and toward her lips. Aching with need, Maura’s hips shamelessly arched into his.
“Not here—not in your grandfather’s house,” she uttered with dismay.
Groaning with frustration, he dipped his hand beneath the hem of her skirt, then glided his hand up her thigh until his fingers reached the silky fabric of her panties. While he teased the flesh of one buttock, he whispered, “Gramps will be gone for hours.”
Knowing that she couldn’t succumb to his seductive persuasions on this matter, she purposely pushed at his shoulders to wedge a few cooling inches between them. “Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t feel right.”
Seeing she meant what she said, Quint grabbed her hand and began tugging her toward the door. “C’mon. I know somewhere we can go.”
“Go? Now?” she asked dazedly. “Where?”
“You’ll see. It’s not far.”
Unable to resist, Maura allowed him to lead her outside to the front of the house, where he quickly helped her into the cab of his truck. As he pulled away from the ranch house, a sense of reckless anticipation came over her and she looked at him as though they’d suddenly turned into sneaky partners in crime.
“What if Abe returns to the house and finds us gone? What are we going to tell him?”
Quint chuckled. “That I took you sightseeing.”
Maura groaned with misgiving. “In the dark? The man isn’t that ancient, Quint.”
“Does it matter what he thinks?”
He reached across the seat for her hand and as his fingers closed around hers, she could feel her heart throbbing with excitement. What normal woman wouldn’t thrill at the idea of her lover carrying her off in the dark to a secret hideaway?
“No,” she whispered truthfully. “It can’t matter.”
About two miles from the house, he turned onto a dim dirt road that led north toward the mountains. During her morning jogs, Maura had noticed the road, but never explored it.
“Are we still on Apache Wells?” she asked after he’d driven for another five minutes.
By now the road had grown bumpy and a dense pine forest had narrowed the road down to the width of a single vehicle. As the truck climbed the rough terrain, Maura gripped the seat in order to steady herself.
“Honey, you have to drive ten miles back to the main highway before you’re off of Apache Wells.”
“I wasn’t sure. We’re going toward the mountains. And it doesn’t look like anyone travels this road very often.”
“Only me. And if any cattle go astray, the ranch hands might use it. But that’s rare.”
She was peering out the windshield, wondering how much farther the truck could handle the rough terrain when suddenly the road planed out, and straight ahead, in the beam of the headlights, stood a small log cabin embraced by a stand of tall pines.
Quint quickly stopped the truck, then helped her to ground. As they walked toward the entrance, their footsteps made silent by pine needles, Maura got the sense that the structure was old. Possibly even older than the ranch itself.
Using his shoulder, Quint shoved the door inward, then ordered her to stay put until he provided light.
Standing in the doorway, the cool night air to her back and the silence of the woods surrounding them, a brief moment of stark sanity raced through her mind.
What was she doing here? With a man younger than her and definitely far less committed? Had she lost her senses and thrown every scrap of self-respect to the wind?
Commitment. Self-respect. She’d had those things before. Or so she’d believed. They had brought her nothing but heartache. Being with Quint brought her joy. And no matter how short-lived that joy was she was going to take it, savor it and be glad for it.
After Quint lit a kerosene lantern and a fat candle, he motioned for Maura to enter the small, one-room cabin. As she stepped onto the bare, wooden floor and glanced around at the crude fixtures, he said, “It’s a little dusty. But not bad. I’ll open the windows and that should give us some fresh air.”
At the front of the room, Quint unlatched two wooden squares that pushed outward to create window spaces. After he’d securely propped them and the cool night air rushed in, he walked back to where she stood by a tiny table holding the burning lamp.
“Alone. At last,” he said with a growl of satisfaction.
Maura’s heart leaped to a reckless speed as his hands settled at the sides of her waist. “You’ve taken a lot of trouble to get me up here,” she said huskily.
In the dim glow of the lamp, she watched his gaze travel straight to her swollen lips and her loins clenched with desire.
“And you’re worth every minute of it.”
He was not a man to hand her lines and as he pulled her into his arms, she wondered if he’d actually meant the words he’d whispered.
Don’t go trying to figure the man now, Maura. Just remember this time with him isn’t forever and you’ll be okay.
Closing her eyes, she turned her lips up to his and as his kiss swept her into a vortex of pleasures she forgot about his motives and plans or the condition her heart might be in tomorrow. Tonight was all about him and her being together and nothing else.
Before long he was removing her clothing and carrying her to a built-in bunk spread with a down comforter. From the small bed, she watched him undress in the dim yellow glow of the lamplight and as the soft shadows slipped fingers across his hard body, her throat thickened with emotions she didn’t understand or even want to analyze.
This amazing man wanted her. Needed her. That was enough for now.
At Chillicothe, she’d believed it impossible for Quint to thrill her more, to take her to even higher heights with his lovemaking, but somehow he did and it was a long time afterward before she could find the strength or composure to utter a word.
Lying in his arms, her body lax and replete, she rested her cheek upon his shoulder and savored the feel of his fingertips marking a gentle trail from her hip to her breast and back again.
“What is this place?” she asked drowsily.
“Our hideaway,” he murmured.
By now the candle had burned out and the single flame of the lamp mottled the chinked walls with golden splashes of light. Beyond the open windows and above the tops of the pines, she could see a portion of the black sky riddled with stars and at that moment it was impossible to think of a more beautiful place to be.
Her lips tilted to a dreamy smile. “I mean before.”
“The cabin was here before Gramps built the ranch and we figured pioneers must have lived here long ago. At one time Gramps used it as a hunting cabin. But now he’d rather feed the deer than shoot them. And so do I.”
“Do you come here often?”
He shifted ever so slightly, and then she felt his lips brushing against the crown of her hair. It was such a sweet and loving contact that her throat suddenly stung with tears.
“No. The last time I was here was more than a year ago, when I learned that my mother had kept a secret life from me and my sister, Alexa.”
“I heard bits and pieces about that even before I returned to Hondo Valley. Knowing your lovely mother, it’s still hard for me to imagine her having another family that no one knew about.”
He sighed and Maura could only imagine what the ordeal with Frankie Cantrell had done to him. It hurt to think of him going through such emotional turmoil. Like her, everything he’d believed in had been ripped asunder and she knew firsthand the deep wounds that deception left behind.
“No one knew about her first marriage but my father,” he said lowly. “And he took the secret to his grave. Seems my parents decided that it would be too hard on Alexa and me to know that we had brothers in Texas, but couldn’t associate with them. You see, Mom’s first husband was abusive. She was forced to run from him and didn’t stop running until she reached Ruidoso. He must have been a real bastard. On the other hand there must have been some good in the man because my two half brothers are great guys.”
She smoothed her palm across his broad chest. “You get along with them?”
“Oh, sure. Why do you ask? Did you think I might resent them?”
“It would be only natural to feel resentment. Especially since Abe told me that your mother makes regular trips to Texas to see them.”
His hand lifted from her hip and then his fingers pushed into her long hair to lift the strands away from her cheek and neck.
“I’d never be jealous of that. Mac and Ripp have families and she needs to be a part of their lives. She missed out on so much. And Alexa lives there now, too. So she has plenty of reasons to go there often.”
“You ever get the itch to move closer to your siblings?” she asked thoughtfully.
“Move from New Mexico? Away from Gramps? Never. This land is a part of my soul. And Gramps is—well, ever since I’ve been big enough to walk, he’s been my hero.” With a throaty groan, he rolled her onto her back and poised his lips over hers. “Besides, if I moved to Texas, you’d have to come up here to the cabin by yourself. And that wouldn’t be any fun at all.”
No. Life without Quint would be boring and lonely, Maura thought. It was something she refused to think about. At least, for tonight.
“How lucky for me that you’re not a wanderer,” she murmured, then latching her fingers around the back of his neck, she pulled his head down to hers and closed the last bit of space between their lips.
Chapter Eight (#u8604a1f9-c492-5802-bb46-74e1e372fc68)
Two weeks later Maura stared numbly across the desk at her sister. It was past the clinic’s normal working hours and the last of Bridget’s patients had left the building. All except Maura.
“What did you say?” Maura asked in a slow, dazed voice.
Her hands folded in front of her, Bridget leaned forward and in her no-nonsense manner, repeated, “I said you’re not suffering from an acid stomach. You’re going to have a baby. I’d say in about eight months from now.”
“A baby! How—how can … that be?”
Bridget smiled knowingly. “You meet a man, chemistry clicks and before you know it the two of you are too close for comfort.”
With a loud wail, Maura’s head shook back and forth. “That’s not what I mean! I’m talking about birth control! How did it fail? All those years with Gil—”
“Yeah. Thank God it didn’t fail with him,” Bridget muttered, then smiled at Maura as though she couldn’t be happier. “I suspect you unwittingly forgot a pill or two. Or it could be the dosage needs to be changed. In any case, do not take another one.”
Dropping her head in her hand, Maura struggled to think past the shock of the moment to the past month or two, before she’d fallen into bed with Quint Cantrell. “Now that I think about it, I did get fouled up for a few days. That’s when Dr. Weston was hounding me and I’d given the hospital notice to quit my job. I guess with all the stress I forgot to take a few pills. But I got back on schedule more than six weeks ago.”
Bridget shook her head. “Apparently the interruption was enough to give your reproductive organs a window of opportunity. And they took it.”
